Dark Bonds
by charlies-anomoly
Summary: A mission goes awry for the Turks, and one of their own ends up as one of the casualties. Slight RudeReno. Rated for violence and language. No sex etc.
1. Chapter 1

**Dark Bonds**

**Summary: **A mission goes awry for the Turks, and one of their own ends up as one of the casualties. Slight Rude/Reno. Rated for violence and language. No sex etc.

**A/N: **My first venture into anything remotely slashy so please bear with me. It's nothing graphic or explicit but please, if it doesn't sit well with you, do us both a favor and don't read it. Anyway, those who are fans of the pairing, please enjoy :). Constructive reviews are most welcome.

Disclaimer, '_All I know is that I don't know nothing'_, etc.

**Chapter One**

It was too quiet. Deep down he knew it was just his well trained, ingrained Turk sensibilities keeping him alert and cautious, but he couldn't shake an uneasy, restless feeling as he padded through the shadows, watching his footing carefully as he made his away along the narrow window ledge. Rude glanced down at the dark street, fifteen floors below, and sighed.

His earpiece buzzed faintly and Tseng's soft voice eased like velvet into the night.

"Status report?"

Rude paused, reaching his destination and peering in through the grimy window.

"Just arrived. It's dark and still inside, boss. No signs of life."

"Good. Reno said the opposite of his location, which means everything's going according to plan. Proceed and let me know when you're in."

"Will do," growled Rude quietly, reaching into his pocket for the razor knife he carried. It felt odd being partnered with the Wutian for the night, as opposed to the red-headed live wire. Tseng's careful tendency to stick to the plan and cause as little trouble as possible was almost unnerving. He figured he'd built up immunity to Reno's antics and had adjusted his own mission procedure accordingly.

He shook his head, slicing through the hinges on the window. It wouldn't do become preoccupied with Reno and lose focus on the task at hand. The kid had been driving him mad lately. Purposefully of course. They'd made a pact months ago to keep their own relationship distanced from their partnership as Turks, up to and not excluding the long tedious hours spent in the ShinRa building, slaving over paperwork.

Reno had learnt _years_ ago that Rude didn't apply the rules of anything too sternly to him, and could easily get away with the odd discrepancy. Most recently, given the sudden lack of work outside of the office, those discrepancies came in the form of frequent, dangerous and distracting flirting. And slash or making a general nuisance of himself and practically daring Rude to reprimand him.

Rude felt it was lucky that Reno had friends in high places, of which the sky was the limit evidentially, or he would have been castrated and flogged within an inch of his life a long time ago.

The window came loose and he quickly returned to the present, setting it silently to the side. The mission would give his little lover a chance to work off some steam and pent up energy.

He spared one last glance around himself before sliding inside, dropping lightly to the dusty wooden floor. Half expecting an alarm to sound he braced, but nodded in satisfaction when all that met his arrival was a stuffy silence, and he flicked down his microphone once again.

"I'm in, Tseng."

"Good. The door to your left leads down eventually into the warehouse. I'm monitoring the stairwell; you're clear to go."

"Reno, sir?"

"Guarding the eastern wall, out of sight. Proceed."

Rude stepped up to the door and rested his ear along the wooden panels none the less, quickly satisfied by Tseng's assurance, and cautiously cracked open the door, sliding his night goggles down over his eyes, and settling his glasses into his pocket.

A fluorescent green hue settled over his vision, and he moved swiftly and silently down the zigzagging stairwell, trying to put as much distance behind him as possible. Time was of the essence.

"By the way, I should commend you two, Rude," came Tseng's soft voice again, gently interrupting his meticulous and evidentially over-precautious scan of the walls. "No explosions, no deaths, no catcalls to speak of. This is the best behaviour I've seen out of you both in years."

"_You both,_" objected Rude, smiling faintly despite himself. "I ought to take offense to that. I may be his partner, but not in crime. Well, in that sense anyway."

He heard Tseng chuckle quietly as he searched for the floor sign on the dingy wall: _6_

"I'm afraid in this case, if you're not _against_ him you are _with_ him, and your eternal reluctance to abandon him to his own grave digging would suggest that you are with him."

"It's too late for language like that Tseng," muttered Rude, sighing.

"Apologies. I should- Activity in floor thirteen stairwell. Hurry."

Rude glanced unconsciously at the ceiling before picking up his pace. The general theme of the Turk's mission was to get in and out as quick as possible with as little interaction with the enemy as possible. Tseng was right; Reno was being uncharacteristically well behaved in that respect, but Rude knew it was with good cause. The gang went as the alias _Red Knuckles_, and cheesiness aside, they knew what they were doing. Word of mouth told of fighting abilities decent enough to almost rival that of ShinRa's finest, and their technicians gave even Reno and Tseng a run for their money. Rufus didn't doubt any of his Turks or their ability to hold their own against the gang, but it had been a long month, and all privately hoped for a slick, injury-less exit tonight.

Rude just hoped Tseng had already broken through the encrypted code blocking the Red Knuckle's computer system. That would mean their job was almost over.

At length he came to a dusty dead end in the stairwell, and turned his sights quickly to the floor beneath his feet; kicking up the grime and dirt to reveal a recently opened trap door.

"Tseng?"

"Clear Rude, come on in."

Prying open the entrance way expertly, Rude spared a surprised thought at the evidentially lacking measures in security. He supposed that the gang generally relied on their fists when it came to protecting what was theirs, and Reno was keeping them busy enough by the storage compartment of the building, where everything of material worth was kept and guarded. Rude knew from experience that Reno was an expert at causing distractions. He allowed a brief smirk at that before dropping carefully into the dimly lit basement, locating Tseng quickly from the glowing monitor before him.

"All according to plan?" he asked, bolting the door behind him and sliding up his goggles.

"Everything, except having your man in my ear non-stop for the past ten minutes," grumbled Tseng, fingers flying over a keypad he was hunched over. "He saw one of them enter the stairwell in his surveillance. '_Boss, where's Rude? Is he there yet, yo? Have you seen him yet?_' Like the proverbial kid on a road trip."

Torn between being moved, insulted at the insinuation that he couldn't look after himself, amused at Tseng's rare show of sarcastic frustration, and concerned about the incoming spies in the stairwell, Rude just snorted and came closer, looking over the other man's shoulder at the screen.

"How long?"

"Approximately one minute," returned Tseng distractedly. Rude turned his attention to the surveillance screen on his superior's arm, tracking the progress of the man in the stairwell. Almost home. He turned and pulled out his gun, twirling it between his fingers.

Tseng's earpiece suddenly began to crackle, and he froze as he heard Reno curse loudly. Tseng jumped, distracted from his work temporarily by the noise.

"Reno?"

"… Shit! … Boss, we got a problem."

"Expand."

"The- _damn_ it! The bastards know I'm here. They're fuc- ow!"

"Reno!"

Rude's hiss trailed off as they heard booted steps overhead, mingled with dulled, muffled sounds of gunfire coming from the earpiece.

"Reno, status report," demanded Tseng, rushing back into his work. He typed furiously for a solid twenty seconds before Reno responded, to them at least. His labored breathing could clearly be heard over the static.

"Sorry boss. Something grazed me, s'all. I- fuck _off_, dipshit! Get the shit out already, Tseng. It's kinda hectic up here."

"On our way, Reno. Get yourself out, keep us updated. Finally, that's me done," he announced shortly, jumping to his feet and pulling a drive from the computer just as the trap door exploded open, and two thugs dropped in, masked, according to the gang's custom.

Rude floored one instantly with a bullet through his forehead, and, feeling vindictive, took the other down slowly; one hole through his leg and another through his shoulder, before sending him after his companion.

"Ordinarily I'd comment on the waste of bullets, Rude, but let's just hope we won't need them," sighed Tseng, snatching up his gun and knocking the computer's hard drive to crash to the floor with a forceful roundhouse kick. "Let's find Reno and get the hell out of here."

"My thoughts exactly."

Rude led the way, pulling himself up through the trap door and knocking down his goggles once more as Tseng followed, reaching for his own.

"Reno, where are you?"

The crackling presided for several long moments, during which Rude underwent a battle of wills with his churning insides. A louder gun blast shot out from the earpiece and Tseng winced, fingering his gun and staring intently at his surveillance screen.

"Reno?"

"… ucking… can't see… oss? Boss?"

"Losing you, Reno. Where are you?"

"… down. Level …or. Where… ou?"

"Level one Reno. You're on four?"

"Yeah. In the main … aircase. I was- fuck! Get… ow… ude?"

Rude knew he was probably vibrating, he was so tense. From what they could make out, Reno's night had just been shot to hell.

"Here, Reno," he answered, tugging Tseng's microphone from his face unceremoniously and speaking into it. "Help us partner, what do we do?"

"… now, Rude, I'm… break out… glass, I- _fuck_!"

The furiously crackling audio suddenly burst into rapid gun fire, and Rude jumped, heart pounding in his chest.

"Reno!"

With a last muffled expletive from the missing Turk, the headset went dead, and Rude spun, hurling it against the concrete wall in his fury.

"Fuck!"

Tseng scanned his surveillance monitor furiously but looked up grimly.

"Lost the signal."

**TBC, please R&R.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

**A/N: **Thanks so much to all the reviewers! Enjoy.

I don't own any of the following characters/places etc.

Rude kicked down the locked wooden door in his path and surged past the remaining splinters, a large chunk snagging on his trousers in his haste. To hell with getting out as quickly and smoothly as possible. Behind him he heard Tseng on his phone, calling in the chopper that had hoped to remain dormant for the night, and communicating as much of the information he had gotten off the computers as possible, thinking ahead for worst case scenarios. Rude was too preoccupied to be touched that Tseng was endangering his mission for Reno's sake, but made a mental note to commend him for it later.

They could still make out the muffled sounds of gunfire and running feet above their heads, as they weaved through the winding rooms of the first floor, originally an office building, angling for the main staircase.

Rude didn't know what the hell was happening up there, but Reno seemed to be holding his own. Rufus and Tseng had estimated that only twenty (or there abouts) members of the gang would actually be in the building tonight, which had made it a prime time for their retrieval mission. All the same, all other intelligence had suggested that the Red Knuckles were bastard fighters; men after the Turk's hearts, and not even Reno was indestructible, regardless of his own opinion.

Hell, even Elena had bested him on drunken occasion, although Rude suspected that had something to do with Reno's eternal hesitation in fighting women. The redhead assured it was merely that he didn't think them equal opponents. Rude generally just smiled and nodded.

_Fuck, I can't lose him,_ he cursed inwardly, growling. Not to these bastards. Not to anyone. As a Turk, he'd always promised himself he'd never get involved in that kind of relationship, not with anyone. Turk's were detached, violent killers, dealing with detached, violent killers. Everyday could be their last. At least if something went wrong, anyway. Rude didn't need to go through that; put someone through that. He knew enough about that kind of loss anyway; his sister and mother being ripped violently away from him as a young kid; watching their blood splatter on the carpet; the street thug grinning at him and pissing off down an alleyway.

Not being able to help them.

Then Reno had showed up one day and smiled at him and blown that rule to figurative smithereens. He still wasn't sure what it was about the kid. They'd just connected instantaneously. Their first mission had gone anything but smoothly; with the target finding out before hand and surprising them both by taking the newbie down with a bullet through the shoulder, but up until then, the pair had fallen swiftly into an effective, dangerous team. Reno's tendency to talk himself hoarse notwithstanding.

Tseng darted past him suddenly, and he followed, shifting over to the side to peer up cautiously into the great open stairwell; winding up steadily to the ceiling. Lights lit up the well on the forth floor, and shouts and crows flooded down around them, almost indistinguishable.

"Still busy," he commented, somewhat relieved though mostly morbidly confused.

"They won't kill him," murmured Tseng, inching up the stairs. "They'll know he has friends here. They'll try to find out where and why."

Rude growled, low in his throat, and made his way slowly after Tseng, struggling to formulate some kind of game plan in his head. Somehow he doubted that his original concept of leaping gung ho into the fray would end up quite so triumphantly as he would like. They needed more men, and he hated himself for admitting it. A Turk, ideally, should have no trouble dealing with more than twenty men. But these men were street thugs like himself, and played dirty. And they had Reno, or seemed to.

No. Something more strategic would probably work better.

He tracked Tseng's progress through the shadows, wondering if perhaps he should insist the Wutaian get out with the data first. Fond as Rufus was of his Turks, Rude wasn't sure how impressed he would be if they returned with a whole Reno but a failed mission.

But fuck it. This was his Reno.

This was not going to be pretty.

A sudden cheer went up, and Rude's blood ran cold, inwardly terrified.

"Rude! Head's up!"

Rude froze at Tseng's barked command and glanced up, eyes widening and arms shooting out in time to catch his plummeting partner, driving them both awkwardly into the hard, concrete steps. The impact winded him, and he winced, head cracking solidly against the ground, but Tseng was already over him, pulling the motionless form of Reno off his chest and holding him up, offering Rude a hand to his feet.

Rude ignored it, springing up and cursing the wave of dizziness that flooded through him; hands reaching immediately for his unconscious, battered partner.

"_Reno_? What the fuck-"

"Not now Rude," hissed Tseng, pulling him away from the staircase as pellets began to spray around their heads, fracturing the tiles on the walls. "Questions later. Now, we get the fuck out of here."

One look at the blood coating Reno and Rude turned, blinded by fury, and headed back for the stairs, but Tseng saw it coming and jerked him back, pushing him ahead of himself.

"How's that chopper coming along," he snapped into his phone, leading Rude away from the gunfire and sounds of the chase, and searching for a suitable way out. "Elena? Wh- Never mind. Which side?" He skidded to a sudden halt and changed direction, tugging Rude off to the left; a dead end with a full scale glass window as a wall.

Rude fought with himself but had followed Tseng obediently, tearing his eyes from his partner and simply hugging him protectively to his chest; accepting that it was not yet the right time to check for injuries. The sound of the helicopter suddenly roared through the night air and he glanced out, eyes widening as it suddenly swooped down into view, more or less pausing directly alongside their window.

None too soon, as he heard the gang approaching, and a rogue bullet shattered the extensive light fitting in the next room. Tseng whipped out his own gun again and fired skilled shots into the glass, shattering the window with a loud crack and an explosion of shards. Elena angled the chopper as close as possible to the building, and Tseng waited, nodding at Rude.

Not hesitating for a moment he hefted Reno closer to his chest and took a running jump, sliding roughly through the wide open door of the helicopter and slamming solidly into the far wall. Not his most graceful exit, but efficient enough.

Tseng followed, landing smoothly on his feet inside just as the first of the gang appeared, toting heavy guns and screeching angrily, lacing what was left of the huge window with bullets.

Elena took it as a signal and soared upward, somehow winning only minimal damage to the sides of the bird as she weaved past another building, and on into the night, back to ShinRa.

Tseng leaned out and watched the building fade, and put his hand to his heaving chest, securing the data drive.

"Mission complete," he managed, panting.

TBC, please R&R


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

**A/N: **Thanks to all the reviewers! Quick note; chapter four might take a few days to show up, as I've got several HSC major works piling up that are due soon. So apologies, and hopefully it will be up soon.

_I don't own any of the following characters/places etc._

_------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ _

Rude wasted no time in gently arranging Reno on the gritty chopper floor and searching for the light. Tseng switched it on and dropped to his knees at his side, surveying the damage.

The young Turk was literally covered in blood, although Tseng suspected that some of it was not his, and belonged to downed Red Knuckles members. His hair was drenched in it, and further investigation into that revealed an ugly head wound; probably his down fall. He snatched up a cloth and some bandages from an open box at his side and passed them to Rude, and signaled to do what he could for it. More to give him something to do than anything else; the big strong man at his side looked about ready to jump back out of the helicopter and dive back into the building.

Reno's pale face was slick with the blood, but he ignored it for the moment, checking just for any unseen gashes, and, finding none, moved further down to feel at his neck. He found a pulse, weak but steady enough, and was satisfied.

Pulling open his torn jacket and dress shirt, he winced as he revealed Reno's chest; criss crossed with boot sized, forming bruises, and the occasional blade wound. A bullet had grazed his right shoulder, which was bleeding profusely down his side, and another had lodged above his left hip; appearing to be the most dire of his injuries.

Quickly analyzing his second's legs, and deciding that one was almost certainly broken but out of his control, he snatched up a second cloth, and pressed it gently but firmly into the young man's hip wound.

"Thought you said they wouldn't kill him, boss," muttered Rude, glancing up as Tseng dragged across a big first aid kit and rummaged around inside.

"Good thing I was wrong," he answered, sighing. "Or we would have been in the wrong place." Rude winced at that and went back to gently mopping the excess blood off his partner's face.

Tseng set about doing what he could for Reno, but ultimately knew the best thing he could do would be to get him to the infirmary quickly. Rude assisted where he could, but Tseng could see the man's hands faltering, and eventually swatted him away, wrapping padding over his bullet wounds himself. He was almost glad he had something to keep himself busy as well – it was plain unsettling to see the kid so quiet and still. He'd seen Reno sleep whilst on long missions, and he seemed almost to move about more in his slumber than he did when awake. Reno called it 'battling the bed sheets'. Tseng called it 'hyperactivity'.

He sat back eventually, eyeing his work gingerly. It would have to do. Reno still looked like he'd gone bathing in a blood bath, but now red-soaked bandages concealed the worst of his injuries, at any rate.

"Keep him still, and-"

"Plenty of water if he wakes, I know," cut in Rude, evidentially having mastered himself somewhat. He looked across, nodding at Tseng. "Thanks."

"Just doin' my job," he replied, picking up on the other Turk's meaning.

"Endangering the mission?"

"Looking after my own." Rude looked down at Reno at that, and Tseng smiled faintly, despite himself. "Hold tight Reno," he said fondly, climbing to his feet and leaving Rude alone with him. He climbed carefully over the mess of clothes, boxes and equipment that Elena had stacked in the compartment and sank into the passenger chair, offering a weary smile.

"Where the hell did you come from?"

She grinned weakly, glancing over.

"Nice to see you too. I got back early. Just landed in the hanger when you called and got Spencer. I took over. Details?" Tseng nodded, plucking glass from his clothes and wiping his bloodied hands on the rag he found on the floor.

"Got the data. Reno was on surveillance and somehow they found him. We were going back for him when he literally fell onto Rude." He shook his head. "They must have kicked him off the side of the stairs. Can't believe our luck, they practically gave him back to us."

"Is he okay?"

"He's a mess," he sighed, glancing up at the sky as rain began to splatter softly on the windscreen. "I think there's a few broken bones in there, and a nasty head wound. Take us straight to the infirmary."

"Sure thing."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rude smoothed back the mattered, damp hair from Reno's face once Tseng had gone, and leant over him, continuing on in his efforts to rid his young partner of the sickening, sticky blood coating his clothes and clammy skin. He hadn't moved or made a sound once, and the silence more than anything else was gnawing a gaping hole in Rude's fragile hold on calm.

They'd both been injured before. Frequently. It was part of the job description. Reno had been shot before, come to that; several times. So had Rude. Fortunately Rufus ShinRa had a talented, skilled team of doctors at his disposal, and generally even bullet wounds were swiftly taken care of.

All the same, grave injuries never lost their shock or fear value. All four of them; Tseng, Elena, Reno and himself, operated as a form of dysfunctional family, given their profession and it's tendency to get in the way of outside relationships. Within weeks of working smoothly together, they became a team in every sense of the word. As Tseng had suggested, their job had eventually and unconsciously shifted aside in importance over the years, to the point where looking out for each other was their primary concern during missions and life.

He smirked a little, rolling his stiff neck. The whole concept had snuck up on him. He hadn't even realized it fully until tonight.

The movement was so minute that Rude almost missed it; perhaps just barely awakened by his lover's touch, Reno swallowed, and his eyelashes fluttered. Rude reached out and took his hand, leaning down.

"Reno?"

He watched with baited breath as the kid shifted again, head lolling slightly to the side as what limited fragments of his conscience that were awake searched for the familiar voice.

"R… Ru," he heard, murmured, and vague, wonderful relief flooded through him.

"Right here partner," he assured, wondering what Reno would say if he could truly see him now; hunched over the redhead like a mother hen. Probably tease him for being a woman and instruct him to grow something more akin to a manhood.

Apparently satisfied however, Reno just exhaled softly and lapsed back into stillness, fingers curled in Rude's hand.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Elena landed the bird smoothly upon the rain drenched launch pad, peering out through the rain-drop speckled windshield into the black night. Tseng had jumped up as they approached, and now she heard him heave the cargo door open; an icy breeze forcing it's way inside and blowing her hair every which way. She killed the engine and jumped up, determining to help get Reno out first, before putting the helicopter away.

She clambered over the boxes and general mess of equipment in the back, and swallowed at the sight of her friend, covered in blood and limp and motionless on the floor, head pillowed by his torn and ruined jacket. Shaking herself, she hurried to help Tseng shift aside the medical supplies and make a clear path.

Rude smiled tiredly at her in greeting before unfolding his legs and climbing to his feet, gently sliding his arms beneath their injured co-worker and lifting him into the air; limbs and head dangling limply from his arms.

She jumped out ahead of him, shouting back for Tseng to leave the helicopter be, and went on ahead, holding open the thick glass doors for Rude to pass, carrying his burden as if Reno himself was made of glass.

Stepping inside after Tseng, the relative warmth of the infirmary washed over her, and she couldn't fight back a yawn, unable to recall the last time she'd slept.

Nurses sprang up to meet them almost instantly, and Elena recognized Doctor Jettison; the man who'd pieced her back together again once not long ago, when she'd come off worse in a fight with another chopper pilot. In fact the Turks were all almost intimately acquainted with most of the infirmary doctors, she mused, watching as a gurney materialized and was wheeled over, and Rude was persuaded to relinquish his grip on Reno.

Jettison stood by his new patient's head, checking his vitals expertly and running an eye over his prone body. Tseng, at Elena's side, quietly aided his inventory, and she tore her gaze from Reno, watching Rude carefully. He was no push over, and Reno had been in similar scrapes before, but she also knew that her two fellow Turks cared more about each other than either wanted to admit, and probably wouldn't dare to.

"We'll take him to emergency surgury," assured the doctor, glancing at Rude's tense form. "He's in good hands, don't worry. If you care to wait in the lounge area, I'll make sure you are updated."

"Thank you doctor," answered Tseng, eyes on the gurney as Reno was whisked away. Rude almost turned to follow, but Tseng halted him, shaking his head.

"Let them do their job Rude. In the meantime, go with Doctor Metfield and get yourself checked out."

Rude just glanced at the new man in scrubs, and shook his head, flexing.

"I'm fine."

"Rude, Reno is in good hands. I'm telling you to go."

"Tseng, I'm fine," he insisted, frowning. "No injuries, no blood, I'm good."

"Rude, Reno fell on top of you and almost knocked you out on those stairs," reminded Tseng, treating the man with a firm frown of his own. "From that height, the force should probably have broken a rib at the least."

Rude glowered at the reminder, but glanced down at himself, seemingly taking a moment to consider himself for the first time that night.

"Tseng's right, big man," she ventured, lightly touching his arm. "You've got a killer bruise on the back of your head, and from what I've heard, you need to get checked out. Wouldn't do to have Reno wake up and ask for you, only to have us tell him you've neglected yourself and got admitted too."

That did the trick, and she trotted after a reluctant but more agreeable Rude, leaving Tseng to call Rufus and wait for Reno's doctors to emerge with the news.

TBC, please R&R


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

**A/N: **Thanks to all the reviewers! I'm sooo sorry it took so long to update, but let's just say this last two weeks have been ones I never wish to relive ever again.

I don't own any of the following characters/places etc.

- - -

A fraction of a second later, Reno realized the movement had been a terrible mistake. A creak shot out from the floorboard and reverberated around the wide open room, and he shrank back, as if that would help.

Damned leg cramps.

Every ear on the level pricked up immediately, and he tightened his fingers around his EMR. Peering down cautiously, he saw two particularly thickset men stand and step away from the cluster, scanning the dim walls.

Watching the others scurry about like ants from a stirred-up nest, he smirked a little, breath slowing slightly. As long as Tseng was almost done, he could probably safely bale without being noticed again. The fools seemingly had no mode of tracking, as one of the idiots was even inching towards the far wall, tapping at the floorboards with a booted foot.

"Hold up, Ridge," stilled a new voice, amused. "Are you coming out, Red?"

Reno froze. The hell? The voice wasn't through.

"He's in the rafters," it supplied. "Camera's just picked up on him. Clever little shit."

Without warning, the wooden rafts by his feet exploded upwards into bullet-torn splints, and he yelped, jumping back.

"Idiot," he hissed at himself, furious. Darting back he ran nimbly along the beam he had chosen as his perch. He reached up blindly to pull down his microphone, only to nearly run into a new volley of bullets; leaping back with a loud curse.

"_Reno_?"

Growling he braced himself and leapt from his plank to the relatively sheltered side of the roof, staring angrily down through the cracks in the floorboards.

Surrounded.

"Shit." He shook himself, fingering his gun, and remembered Tseng was still in his ear. "Boss, we got a problem."

"_Expand_."

"The- damn it! The bastards know I'm here. They're fuc- ow!"

He broke off into a yelp of pain as a bullet, burning and fierce, slashed through the skin of his shoulder, lodging in the wall behind him. Fuck. Not sheltered enough. He thought he heard Rude's voice, but pushed those voices away temporarily, scrambling for his life as the gang below started shooting haphazardly at the rafter he stood upon.

"Sorry boss. Something grazed me, s'all. I- fuck _off_, dipshit! Get the shit out already, Tseng. It's kinda hectic up here."

"_On our way Reno. Get yourself out, keep us updated_."

Reno shook the microphone away, staring around with desperate, scanning eyes. Window, window.

Screw it, he could move faster on the ground. He spared a brief, inward frown for his bright, attention drawing hair, before taking a running leap, managing to catch a hold of the service ladder, and sliding smoothly to the floor, almost wishing he'd caught the spectacle on camera. The bullets were still trailing after as he burst into a run, but he had a good hundred yards of empty space between himself and the gang.

Tseng's voice was in his head again, but he didn't have time for it. He spotted the big main staircase and veered in that direction. His damn earpiece was crackling and sparking; one of the stray bullets had no doubt side-swiped it and cut into the wire. Another roared past his ear, close enough to ruffle his hair, and he winced, wondering when the gang were going to start relying upon their fists like they were supposed to.

The lighting above his head exploded suddenly, sending small shards of glass to fall relatively harmlessly upon his suit. The floor however was thrown violently into darkness.

"_Reno_?"

"Yeah Tseng," he barked, fumbling for a lighter as he ran. "I fucking can't see anything. Where are you boss? Boss?"

"_Losing you, Reno. Where are you_?"

He frowned. The damn bullet was shorting out their channel.

"Going down. Level four, I saw a window. Where are you?"

"_Level one Reno. You're on four_?"

"Yeah. In the main staircase. I was- fuck!" He ducked behind a somewhat superfluous table as a cap tore through his calf, stumbling briefly but throwing himself back to his feet. Gods this was ridiculous. "Shit… Get out, you two. Gods, oww. Rude?"

"_Here Reno. Help us partner, what do we do_?"

He knew Rude would laugh at him if he knew, but just hearing the big man's voice sent a rush of fresh fear flooding through him. Not just for him; all he wanted was to see his lover again, but he worried about how Rude would cope, should the inevitable happen.

"It's fucked up now, Rude. I'm gonna try break out through the glass. I-"

A fresh volley of bullets rolled around him, buffeting his jacket fiercely. He groaned; he hated that he was more or less fleeing for his damned life, and against a gang of mindless, blood thirsty nobodies. He'd always imagined his death as something somewhat more… glamorous?

No, dangerous, or perhaps just 'spectacular'. They were closer.

He swore loudly as the headset was blown clear off his face, severing his last tie with Rude. That was that.

His eyes widened as he suddenly felt a cord tangle in his legs, and pull tight; cutting into the flesh of his left thigh and snapping taut. The snap of bone and muscle was audible, and he fell in an undignified heap, taken off guard by the flood of pain emanating through his body. He'd broken bones before, but fuck.

Even as he scrambled to sit up and untangle himself the gang were upon him, knocking him back to the floor with the butt of a rifle to his brow, and a flying foot connecting with his chest.

"Bugger. Off," he ground out, scrabbling for his EMR, but he'd exhausted his run of luck for the evening. A pair of hands latched on to his collar and jerked upwards, cutting off his air with a strangled wheeze.

Blinding pain darted through his head suddenly, and he swooned; eyes rolling back and collapsing bonelessly to the floor, and even as everything went black, he hated himself for it.

- - -

"Rude, quit pacing and give my eyes a rest, huh?"

He glanced up, startled out of his gloomy reverie. Elena was glaring half heartedly at him, chin resting in her hand. He nodded and dragged his feet back over to the chair at her side, sinking down.

"You should go get some sleep, El," he insisted again, partially glad for the distraction of conversation. He knew Elena had been busy on a private mission for Rufus for the last three days, and probably hadn't gotten much rest. They were all trained to go lengths without sleep, but it didn't do much for moral. Or patience. She just smirked at him.

"And leave you here to wear a track in the tiles? Nah. 'sides, I wanna find out if the runt broke my record yet."

He smirked back at that, amused. The two smallest Turks had kept up a running tally of injuries and scars ever since their first time working together. Rude suspected it had originated out of counting and comparing marks to pass the time on a steak out long passed and dimming in memory. Despite Reno's uncanny ability to injure himself on both dangerous missions and inane household cleaning treks, Elena had somehow always beaten him in their cataloguing. She'd never explained the sources of many of the marks, and they both guessed they had something to do with her past, and respectfully stayed out of it.

Reno had always just contented himself with the idea that his injuries accounted for more as they were generally graver and less attractive. Rude sighed. Whilst his partner seemed to enjoy the chance to add new scars to his list, Rude never understood the fun of it all.

"Don't worry big guy," said Elena, as if sensing his thoughts. "He'll be fine. That Jettison knows his shit. We all know that."

"Yeah. He did wonders with you. You look almost human now."

"Yeah yeah. Laugh it up. I happen to have a few incriminating stories about you up my sleeve, care of your boozing, card-losing man back there."

Oh Gods, the little bastard had been spilling his guts to Elena. He knew there had been something off about his smile last month, coming back from a drinking night with the blonde.

As soon as he was better, Rude was going to kill him.

He was saved from having to respond to that, however, as Tseng reappeared in the lounge area, shuffling through a pile of paperwork in his hands. Rude jumped to his feet, waiting anxiously.

Maybe he'd be gentle when he killed him.

Tseng looked up and abandoned the paperwork for the moment, coming to a halt before them.

"Time to hand over the torch, Elena," he noted, smiling faintly. She grinned weakly.

"Tseng," prompted Rude, patiently as possible.

"He's going to be fine, Rude. You can see him in a few minutes, he's just being settled in a room. Bullet retrieval went well, and he's got a few handfuls of stitches. They had to rebreak his leg to set it, but no other complications."

"What about his head," he asked cautiously. Head injuries were a bitch, and Reno had one hell of a bump – slash – gash back there. Tseng nodded.

"Concussion, but the swelling is going down. Apart from a killer headache, he'll probably make a full recovery, and they aren't worried about memory loss thus far."

Rude nodded, vague relief flooding through him. He wouldn't feel wholly at ease until the kid woke up and barked drink orders at him, but none the less, positive news helped.

"He's littered in minor injuries too, Rude," reminded Tseng softly, catching his eye again. "He'll be sore for a few weeks. Then again this comes at a good time; If you're going to be sitting around with nothing to do but watch lint form, you may as well do it from home with him, I suppose."

Rude and Elena grinned at that.

"Was that a joke boss," she asked, winking.

"I think it was more sarcasm than anything," he sighed in response, eyeing the lofty pile of paperwork under his arm as if it were a snake. "Or a lie in my case. I'll have plenty to keep me occupied."

"What did Rufus say?" asked Rude.

"Just congratulations on both missions, and sent his regards to Reno." Tseng turned, alerted by the new footsteps behind him. "There's Jettison, Rude; You're good to go. Elena, if you'd be so kind to join me?"

"Sure boss," she agreed, smiling at Rude and moving off at Tseng's side, giving the partners some time alone.

"Oh, boss," Rude said suddenly, turning. Tseng glanced up, questioning. "It's- Thanks."

"You've said that, Rude," the other man protested, shaking his head. "And I-"

"I mean it," he insisted, something close to a grateful smile tugging at his lips. "For everything." Tseng frowned at him but smirked, waving him on.

"Nothing of it. Now go see him, sentimental fool."

- - -

He was used to the beeping of hospital monitors by now, otherwise it might have drove him mad. It was like a second language to him, pathetic as that concept was. He was also used to the back-breaking visitor's chairs, and the mind dulling light green wall paint. Better than black, he supposed.

He didn't think he'd ever get used to seeing his life partner laid out in bandages, partially concealed by a thin hospital blanket.

His long hair had been cleaned, thankfully, and twisted around to fall across his injured shoulder, the odd strand falling across his pale, still face, mixing in with the red of his facial scars. It made him look oddly peaceful. Vulnerable.

The rest of him still looked like shit.

He was still maddeningly curious as to what had actually happened. Angry and vengeful too, but they were knee-jerk, irrelevant emotions he supposed. Even still, it was obvious the gang had had fun with their catch. The blow to the head would have been sufficient, but even Rude, with his preliminary knowledge of interpreting injuries, could tell that many of the bruises and slices had been received post - loss - of - consciousness.

He sighed, drumming his fingers along the side of the coffee-filled paper cup in his grasp. They called it coffee, anyway. He wondered tiredly if he could sue the vending company for false advertising. The goopy liquid seemed more gray than the rich brown of the freshly ground stuff he was used to.

Elena had once referred to him as 'the frowning guy, unless Reno's there'. He'd predictably frowned as everyone else in earshot had snorted into their paperwork, in unanimous agreement. Elena had patted his arm and flashed a winning smile, assuring that she wouldn't have him any other way, and it was merely an observation.

It was true, of course. That much was obvious, or he would have strangled the kid years ago.

She'd also gone and told Reno as much, admittedly after he had made a (looking back) less than charming remark about her tendency to follow Tseng around like a lovesick puppy.

They had both been right though. _Hell hath no fury_ and all…

"I love you kiddo," he admitted, muttering. "Gods help me."

- - -

TBC, please R&R 


End file.
